


A Place to Call Home

by SnakesandTea



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale is Good With Kids (Good Omens), Bed-Wetting, Caring Aziraphale (Good Omens), Caring Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Kids (Good Omens), Crowley is Good With Kids (Good Omens), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Aziraphale (Good Omens), Protective Crowley (Good Omens), Wetting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:42:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23607751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnakesandTea/pseuds/SnakesandTea
Summary: When a young teenager wanders into the bookshop late at night, Crowley and Aziraphale can’t possibly turn her away. A story in which the angel and demon care for a girl who had a rather rough upbringing. * Read the tags! *
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 63
Kudos: 124





	1. A Port in the Storm

Aziraphale and Crowley were in the backroom of his shop, getting ready to sit down for some tea and dessert. Post-Non-Apocalypse life was treating them both so well, they’d started to fall into a routine. They spent most days at the cottage, but Aziraphale insisted on occasionally tending to his shop. Today, they’d merely nipped by so the angel could meet with a seller. To his dismay, the seller’s book was not a first edition, as he’d claimed, and Aziraphale sent him on his way. In an effort to cheer him up, his demon suggested tea and biscuits. The angel happily agreed and his shoulders danced as he put on the kettle. The bell chimed, alerting Aziraphale that someone had entered his bookshop. He huffed. It was very impolite of someone to disregard his hours.

“I’ve got it, Angel,” Crowley said softly. He sifted through various ways of telling-off the intruder, perhaps he’d even give the poor bastard a fright. The demon sauntered into the shop and stopped mid-stride. He saw an utterly terrified child shaking in the entryway. “Hey?” He said softly. The kid jumped and looked about ready to bolt for the door. No one so young should be out this time of night. So, Crowley tried again. “Hey, kid.” He put his hands up in surrender. “I’m not gonna hurt ya, all right? Just curious about what drew you into a bookstore so late at night is all.”

“H-hi,” a small, quivering feminine voice said. “I-I’m sorry. I know you’re c-c-losed. I can go. He’s probably gone now”

He waved away her apology and noticed her flinch when he raised his arm. Crowley’s heart sank. He knew the reflex well. “Whose gone?” Crowley prodded gently. The kid seemed dangerously thin.

“Some guy was following me. T-this was the only shop that was unlocked. Sorry… again.”

“Apology’s not necessary, kid.” He watched her cast another worried glance outside. “‘M glad you came here; smart choice.”

“Thanks.” She anxiously ran her hand through her hair.

The last thing Crowley wanted was for her to leave. Something was very clearly wrong and, dammit, he hated seeing kids hurt. “Hey, listen, we were just about to have some tea; you want to join?” He gave her a lopsided smile. “Knowing my husband, we’ll have biscuits, too.”

Alex responded with a nervous smile of her own. “Oh, yeah, okay… That sounds good.“ Her mother had taught her some very mean things about homosexuals. But the lanky man with messy ginger hair didn’t seem like he wanted to do horrible stuff to anyone; definitely nothing close to the things her father had done to her. She inquired with trepidation, “You sure your husband wouldn’t mind?”

He chuckled. “I’m sure he won’t.” Honestly, Crowley wasn’t sure what Aziraphale would say when he walked into the backroom. But, quite frankly, right now, he didn’t care. “I’m Crowley, by the way.”

“Alex,” she replied. 

“Good to meet you, Alex. Come on,” the demon said and offered her his hand.

After a moments’ hesitation, she took it, trailing slightly behind him. Alex marveled at the numerous shelves and stack of gorgeous, well-cared-for novels. Her fingers itched to run along the leather spines

The demon smiled as he noticed her fascination. If his angel was displeased that they had a house-guest, he’d certainly settle down when he learned she shared his affinity for books. His smile faltered when he realized that she was practically tip-toeing.

“Ah, my dear,” Aziraphale began, as he closely arranged a plate of biscuits, “Did you have a hard time getting rid of that customer? I say, people can be rather rude. The sign clearly states that the store closes at—”

“Angel,” he interrupted sharply.

The brusqueness in his demon’s voice made him spin around immediately. He nearly jumped seeing the girl beside Crowley. “Oh! Hello, dear. My most sincere apologies, I didn’t realize you were here.”

Alex blushed and almost hid behind the demon. “hi… I-I-I’m sorry for interrupting. I, um… I can go if you want me to.”

“No, dear girl! You’re more than welcome!” He assumed Crowley had a good reason for bringing a human child into the backroom of his shop. “Why don’t you have a seat and I’ll fetch you a cuppa? Cream? Sugar?”

“Sugar please,” she requested as she slid onto the wooden chair. The taller man sat next to her. Alex guessed he was looking at his husband, but it was hard to tell with his glasses. Despite her curiosity, she didn’t want to impose or overstep by asking why he wore them. Her hand shook as she took the cup. “Thank you, sir.”

Aziraphale smiled brightly. “Oh, please, don’t call me ‘sir’.” He chuckled softly. “I much prefer Aziraphale. Though, if that’s too much of a mouthful, I’m all right with ‘Zira.’”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Aziraphale.” She extended her hand. “I’m Alex.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” He replied, shaking the offered hand. Never before had he met such a formal child. Then again, he hadn’t met many children.

The kid’s decorum concerned Crowley almost as much as her flinching. He remembered one of Warlock’s friends who he’d noticed was limping. When the demon asked him about it, the child replied with an obvious lie. A bit of investigating revealed that his father had done more than enough to secure himself place deep in hell.

The angel smiled softly. “How old are you, dear girl?”

“Thirteen.” She sipped her tea. Somehow Aziraphale had known the perfect amount of sugar to add.

Crowley thought she looked far too small to be a teenager. He would have assumed she was eight or nine at the oldest.

“My, my, so young and such impeccable manners. That is rather impressive,” he said. “Now, have you parents?”

Alex paled and stared into her cup. “Um… yeah. I do.”

The demon noticed the sharp shift in her demeanor. He felt the hair on the back of his neck bristle. The kid was clearly afraid of her caretakers.

Unfortunately, Aziraphale was a bit slower on the uptake. “Oh, it’s rather late, my dear. Won’t they be worried?”

“No… probably not. I don’t think Daddy will notice for a while. ‘M supposedta be grounded for a week.”

The angel was concerned. He was familiar with the concept of ‘grounding,’ as Nanny had used it as a form of punishment for Warlock. But he was rather certain that the demon still saw his charge every day. Crowley shot him a look that the kid couldn’t see. Once he had the angel’s attention, he shook his head slightly, trying to deter him from further inquiries regarding her family. The question died on Aziraphale’s lips. Instead he asked if she’d had dinner.

Unfortunately, Alex had started thinking about what would happen if Daddy found out she’d gotten away. He’d always threatened to skin her alive if she did anything really bad. And Alex was pretty sure running away counted as really bad. She gasped as a small spurt of urine leaked into her underwear. No! not here… not now. Please.

“Is something the matter?” Aziraphale asked, concern blossoming on his face.

Alex shook her head. “N-n-no, I’m fine.” She pressed her legs together and stood up. “Thank you – for everything.”

“Where ya goin so fast?” Crowley pulled himself to his feet, his eyes narrowed behind the dark glasses.

Oh, no. It was far too late. She felt a stronger trickle warm her crotch and instinctively tried to hide the wet spot forming on her pants. Alex shoved her hands between her legs and took off, sprinting. She realized she hadn’t the slightest clue where she was going. But it didn’t matter. Her muscles contracted, bringing her to her knees as her bladder released. No!

Aziraphale stared at the spot where Alex had stood, flabbergasted. He didn’t think teenagers still had toilet accidents. Warlock seemed to have stopped that ages before he was thirteen.

Crowley, however, ran after her. He watched as she fell to her knees and finally caught up to her. The demon put his hand on her shoulder. “It’s all right,” he tried to assure her.

Her cheeks burned. “I’m sorry—I’m so sorry.” She hid her face in her hands as the puddle around her grew.

“No need for that,” he said, brushing away the apology. “You okay?”

Alex sniffled but nodded, looking anywhere but her mess or the man beside her. She appreciated the hand on her shoulder – no one had ever stayed that close when she lost control. “I’ll go.”

“Where?” Crowley inquired gently. He hoped Alex would choose to stick around with them for a while. She was very clearly mal-nourished and something didn’t feel right about how often she apologized.

“Oh—oh. Erm, I don’t…” She trailed off as it dawned on her that she really, truly had nowhere to go.

Crowley recalled one of Warlock’s more unfortunate accidents. His dad had a televised conference where he wanted his son present. Nanny had warned him that Warlock wasn’t quite confident about knowing he needed the toilet, especially when the child was distracted. Of course, that prick didn’t listen and his son wet himself on national television. Fortunately, Nanny came prepared with a change of clothes. However, she had to spend a good twenty minutes coaxing him out from under a table all the while convincing the poor lad that he would feel better clean and dry. “Wherever you choose to go, you’ll be a hell of a lot more comfortable if you get there dry, right?” He encouraged, using a similar line to the one that got Warlock moving.

She flinched at his mention of her accident. “Yeah.”

“Shower’s upstairs and we can wash your clothes while you get sorted. That sound okay?”

Alex nodded and followed him. Her thighs were already starting to chafe.

Crowley paused by the bedroom and ‘rifled through’ a drawer. Really, he was miracling a black t-shirt and sweatpants in her size. “These should work.” He handed them to her as they walked the rest of the way to the bathroom. “Toss the stuff you want washed out here. If you need anything, just give us a shout.”

“Thank you,” her voice was hardly more than a whisper. She didn’t deserve this guy’s kindness – hell, she’d just wet herself in his house. Alex wrapped her soiled things in a towel before setting them outside the door. She didn’t want to leave another mess on the floor.

After her shower, she donned the clothes Crowley gave her. Alex looked at herself in the mirror. The edges of a bruise on her bicep peaked out from beneath the short sleeve. Not to mention the marks on her wrist and forearm. At least her torso was covered. But, still, she wished he’d given her something to cover her arms. Alex opened the door slowly, cursing when she saw that they had, in fact, taken her clothes.

She tip-toed down the stairs and found Crowley curled up on the couch with his head in the other man’s lap. It looked nice. She wished someone wanted to hold her. “Um… hi?”

Crowley sat up. “Hey, kid, c’mere,” he said and pat the couch between them.

Alex looked at him, her face pinched with confusion. “You sure?” She couldn’t believe he wanted her to sit by him. Had he already forgotten what happened less than an hour ago?

Concerned about her apprehension, his reply came out more animated than he intended. “‘Course I’m sure!”

Aziraphale nodded along with his husband. The poor girl looked to be shaking.

She scurried over and scrambled up, earning smiles from both kind men. It had been a long day and she was exhausted. Alex leaned against Crowley. Her eyelids grew heavy, slowly closing as she burrowed deeper into his side.


	2. Plans

An hour after Alex drifted off, Crowley decided they’d miracle a guest room for her in Aziraphale’s old flat. Conveniently, it had yet to be rented – and the demon insisted that had absolutely nothing to do with any intervention on his part. He and Aziraphale agreed it was best to avoid using miracles in front of their charge, so as not to frighten her. Plus, it wouldn’t do to have a scared teenager telling all of Soho stories about angelic and demonic miracles. Crowley tightened his grasp on Alex as she twitched in her sleep. “You’re safe,” he assured and rubbed her back. 

Aziraphale nearly replied, but quickly realized the demon wasn’t addressing him. He closed his mouth and studied the girl sleeping in Crowley’s arms. He noticed the bruises around her left wrist matched those around her biceps. The pained look on his face mirrored the demon’s. “Oh, dear girl, who hurt you?” He whispered, sadly.

Crowley shook his head. The bruises on the kid’s arm were hand-shaped – by the look of it, a fairly large hand. “That’s not all, Angel.” He nodded for Aziraphale to come closer and gently resituated Alex to reveal healing lacerations on her forearm.

He sighed. “Self-inflicted.”

It wasn’t a question, but the demon answered nonetheless. “Yep.” Crowley listened to the kid’s soft snores. His gaze traveled back to bruises and rage burned in his chest. His lips twitched as he tried to quell his anger. He may have been successful had his angel not picked that moment to voice a pointed question.

“What are we going to do, dear?” He finally asked. The inquiry had been on the angel’s lips since he saw Alex in the back of his shop. 

“First, we’re giving her a room,” he whispered sharply. Crowley snapped his fingers and it was so. “Next, I’m going to get her tucked-in. And then, angel, we’ll start to figure that out.”

Aziraphale wasn’t sure what he’d done wrong. But Crowley was clearly riled and had a plan. Usually, when the demon got like this, it was best to simply let him do as he wished. “Very well, dear.”

Crowley held her close to his chest as he carried her up to bed. He wanted to check her over for other injuries but decided against it. The kid needed sleep. A small grin crossed his face as he laid her down on the plush mattress and pulled a tartan blanket up to her chin. He beamed when Alex nestled deeper into the pillow. Crowley forgot how much truly enjoyed caring for children.

The angel heard light footsteps and looked up from his novel. He noted the ghost of a smile on his demon’s lips. “How is she?”

He shrugged, plopping down beside him. “Still asleep.” His chest ached and his bones felt like jelly. 

Aziraphale slid into a far gentler tone, “How are you?” The demon’s head landed in his lap. “Ah.” If 6,000 years taught him anything, it was to keep his mouth closed and just hold Crowley for a while. He lightly ran his fingers through the ginger hair.

Eventually, Crowley found his voice again. “We have to do something, Angel. We have to help her.”

“I agree. Perhaps, in the morning, we can contact the proper authorities and—”

“No,” he interrupted harshly. Crowley cleared his throat and continued softly, “Sorry, Angel. I didn’t mean to be so…” He gestured vaguely.

“It’s all right, dear boy.” His demon’s anguish was nearly palatable. Aziraphale tread cautiously. “Why can’t we go to the authorities?”

He shook his head. “The system’s fucked.”

“Language,” he reprimanded lightly.

“There’s no other way to explain it, Angel. It’s completely and utterly fucked,” Crowley said bitterly. “Kids get sent back to their abusive parents! Others get shuffled around foster homes where the next is just as bad, or worse, than the last.” He shook his head in defeat.

Aziraphale recoiled as his demon raised his voice. The things he was saying could not possibly be true! Could they? He’d always believed that, though rather flawed, humans, overall, were inherently good. However, people were easily influenced by demons every day. Not to mention that many angels shared Gabriel’s disdain for his enjoyment of earthly pleasures as well as his genuine affinity for humans. He frowned. It seemed, the more questions he asked, the more complicated humanity became. His shoulders drooped.

“Angel, even my ex-lot couldn’t come up with something as sick as government-run child-care services,” Crowley concluded. 

***

Alex opened her eyes and found herself in an unfamiliar room. Her heart pounded in her chest as she looked for an escape. Slowly, through the haze of her panic, the events of the night before surfaced. She was safe. Unfortunately, she was also wet. And, to make matters worse, her bladder was seconds from emptying again. In a desperate attempt to get to the toilet, Alex threw off the blanket and tried to swing her legs over the side of the bed. But it was all in vain. The moment she moved, a violent flood spread beneath her. “Shit!” She whispered. Frustrated tears burned in her eyes. She was thirteen for fuck’s sake! She shouldn’t be wetting the bed – much less, a stranger’s bed. Once she finished, Alex peeled her pants off and balled them up in the sheets. The unprotected mattress showcased her accident like a terrible yellow beacon amidst the pristine white. She riffled through the drawers, nearly crying when she found them all empty. A towel then, Alex decided. She retrieved one from the bathroom and wrapped it around her waist. The girl grimaced as she hefted the gross bundle and went in search of a washing machine.

“So, what do you propose we do? Have you any idea? One, single better idea?” The angel’s query floated up the stairs.

Alex froze, the wet sheets heavy and cold in her hands. Her heartbeat thundering in her ears drowned out Crowley’s response. It seemed Aziraphale had also fallen silent. Her loud breath, the only sound in the empty hallway. Clamping her mouth shut, she hastened back to her room and shoved the soiled sheets under the bed. Alex panicked as she heard footsteps approaching her door. She hopped into the bed, positioned herself over the stain, and prayed they wouldn’t notice.

Crowley smelled the problem long before he saw it. One of the many attributes of being rather serpentine, his sense of smell was impeccable, and far better than most other supernatural entities. “Hey, kid, you okay?”

She felt cooled urine seep through the towel and fought her every inclination to move. “Yep!”

He saw through her lie before it was even off her tongue. Crowley kept his tone light. “What happened to the sheets?” His lips perked up at the corners. “Pretty sure there were some on here when I left,” He joked, trying to help her see that he wasn’t angry.

Alex looked away. There was no denying what happened. She was in a towel for fuck’s sake. “I’m sorry... I promise, I was gonna clean up,” Alex said hurriedly, tears brimming in her eyes.

“You don’t need to do that.” He slowly crossed the room and sat on the very edge of the bed, making sure to give her space.

She nodded vigorously as tears ran down her cheeks. “I do… Where’s the washer?”

Crowley realized he wasn’t getting through to her and tried a new tactic. “Washing sheets, at least in this house, is a grown-up job, all right?” He said softly. “Are you a grown-up?”

Alex shook her head.

“If you’re not a grown-up, then how could you be expected to do a grown-up job?”

She didn’t completely understand. Alex did plenty of ‘grown-up’ things at home; she played ‘The Grown-Up Game’ her daddy invented all the time. But Crowley’s logic made sense – if she wasn’t a ‘grown-up’ she shouldn’t have to do those jobs. The thought of her father reignited her fear as she recalled the conversation she overheard. “Please don’t send me away. Please! I’ll be good! I-I won’t do the grown-up jobs!” Alex didn’t know what else to offer; she had no idea what else the kind men expected.

“We wouldn’t do that, kid.”

She nodded. “I heard you talking. Zira asked if you had any ideas of what to do with me,” Alex stated flatly. It hurt too much to think about losing this safe place, even though she’d only been there for a matter of hours.

“Then you didn’t hear my response, did you?”

“No,” she replied with a touch of guilt.

“I told him you could stay with us, and he agreed. As long as that’s something you’d want.”

“You’d want me to?”

“Absolutely.”

“And I wouldn’t have to do ‘grown-up’ stuff?”

“Nope, not at all, kiddo,” he replied, a tentative, lopsided smile on his face. “So, what do you say?”

She returned his smile. “I think I’d like that very much.”

His grin widened. “Then it’s settled,” Crowley said decisively. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up, huh?”

Alex nodded. In all the excitement, she forgot about the bed. What if they didn’t want her anymore if Crowley found out she’d ruined their mattress? “I’m fine.”

“You’re in a towel, that can’t be comfortable,” he started gently. “I’m not going to be upset with you for having an accident, kid.”

“Promise?”

“I promise. You go on and hop in the shower and I’ll take care of the sheets.” He noticed her hesitation and pointed to himself “grown-up, remember?”

Alex giggled. “Right!” She turned and bounded away toward the bathroom.

Admittedly, Crowley was a bit grateful for her hasty retreat, as hearing her laugh nearly made him cry.


	3. Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delay – I was in the hospital for emergency surgery.

Crowley miracled the sheets back on the bed, everything clean and dry. His gaze landed on the dresser and he snapped his fingers, filling the drawers with Alex-sized clothes. Crowley grabbed a few things and knocked on the bathroom door. “Kid? I’m leaving some dry stuff out here for you, okay?” He waited a while before he rapt again. “Alex?” Silence. “I’m coming in.” Crowley opened the door with ease. He found his charge unmoving, staring at the shower. “Hey, everything all right?” The demon asked softly. “Kid?”

Alex jumped and spun around to face him, prepared to fight Daddy. Her gaze fell on the lanky ginger who appeared to be hunched over in an attempt to make himself look smaller.

He recognized the fear in her eyes. “Alex? It’s me, Crowley,” the demon explained evenly.

The panic receded as quickly as it came. She smiled weakly. “Hey, Crowley.”

“Everything okay?”

“Uh huh.” Alex shifted uncomfortably; her legs itched something fierce.

Crowley knew better, but let it go. He held up the clothes he’d grabbed. “Dry stuff.” The demon smiled and set them on the edge of the sink. “If you need anything, Aziraphale and I will be downstairs, all right?”

She nodded and glanced at the shower with trepidation. “Okay.”

He closed the door behind himself before rejoining his angel in the bookshop. Crowley plopped onto the couch and slumped against Aziraphale.

The principality set his book aside. “I take it something went poorly?” He inquired gently.

He nodded miserably, unsure of where or how to start. “She’s afraid of the shower.”

“Why”

The demon shrugged. His guess was as good as any, but he figured It had something to do with her no-good legal guardians.

“That seems a rather strange thing to fear, doesn’t it, my dear?” Aziraphale asked softly. He tried his best to understand kids; however, it often seemed children evaded his logic. They were unpredictable, loud, and messy. Of course, the angel loved them, as he loved all creatures, great and small.

“No fear is strange, Angel, they all come from somewhere.” Crowley looked at the side table and smiled. “You’re reading a parenting book.” He grinned.

“Well, I thought it necessary to educate myself since we’ll be taking care of Alex for a while,” Aziraphale replied a touch defensively. He was a bit envious of his demon’s natural aptitude for child-rearing. A harrowing experience with Warlock came to mind. He was trying to explain that childbirth was a rather painful experience for humans – after the whole bit with the apple and all. Nanny rushed over and scooped the young boy into her arms and shot Aziraphale a glare which could rival Satan himself. It wasn’t until later that Crowley explained Warlock wasn’t quite old enough for that conversation.

“Relax, you’re doing fine,” the demon assured him. He’d always had a soft spot for kids. Perhaps it was because he shared their sense of wonder and curiosity; or maybe it was his astonishment of how adaptable and resilient children tended to be. Speaking of kids, he looked up and saw Alex hesitantly lingering by the doorway. “Hey, there kiddo, feeling better?”

She nodded and inched closer. They were on that couch again. She wasn’t sure she had permission to join them. Their rules seemed different than Daddy’s – but she didn’t want to upset them.

Crowley noted her reluctance to come near them. Her fear twisted through him. “How ‘bout some breakfast?” Crowley offered softly. “Aziraphale makes great pancakes,” he said and winked at the angel.

“I like pancakes!” Alex smiled.

The angel headed to the kitchen, the young charge and demon in tow. He quickly whipped up a batch of chocolate chip pancakes and served Alex first. “There you are, dear girl.”

“Thank you!” She hungrily tore into them and hummed her appreciation. “These are awesome, Zira – so good!” Alex said around a mouthful.

Crowley’s lopsided smirk made an appearance, the unbridled joy in Alex’s voice was a lovely change of pace. The angel settled down between him and Ale. He watched Aziraphale’s shoulders dance as he tasted his own creation.

“Scrumptious,” he praised his cooking.

“I’d expect nothing less, Angel,” The demon said softly.

Crowley recalled the excitement on Alex’s face when she’d seen the books. Unsure of whether she had learned to read, the demon suggested Aziraphale read to her after they finished breakfast.

No one had ever read to her before. She nodded excitedly. “Please? Would you?”

“I’d love to, dear girl! Why don’t you go pick something while Crowley and I get breakfast tidied up?” He suggested, eager to see what she’d choose.

“Okay!” Alex took off toward the bookshop with a huge grin across her face.

Aziraphale watched her go, a smile pulling at his lips. He caught Crowley smirking at him. “What?”

“You care about her,” he replied smugly.

“Of course, I do, she’s one of—”

“Don’t you dare say ‘one of The Almighty’s creations,’ Angel.”

He pursed his lips. “Well, she is, isn’t she?”

“You’re stalling. Admit it, you care,” Crowley pressed, his eyes glittering. Delight warmed him as he looked at his angel.

Flustered, he acquiesced, “All right, fine, yes! I like her!” Aziraphale had a rather large soft-spot for Alex. Of course, there were a handful of things he didn’t quite understand about her. But he loved her all the same. The angel felt a strange, primal urge to protect and comfort her. Perhaps he’d mention to it Crowley later; though, he had his suspicions the demon already knew.

Alex stood in the bookshop and presented them with a copy of ‘Harry Potter and The Philosopher’s Stone’. She’d heard that it was a good series but Daddy never permitted her to read anything of her choosing. “Is this one okay?” Alex asked shyly.

“Absolutely, dear girl,” Aziraphale said and excitedly took the offered novel.

Crowley curled up on the couch, leaning against his angel and softly pulled Alex into his lap. She snuggled against him instantly, laying her cheek on his chest. He smiled at her before his eyes drifted closed, listening to his angel’s animated reading. 

Alex dozed off a while later, comfortably nestled in Crowley’s arms while the melodic ethereal voice lulled her to sleep.

She woke to a familiar sensation. Hot liquid flooded rapidly from her crotch, wetting her clothes and – oh, no! No, no, no! Alex’s chin trembled as she realized she was laying atop Crowley – which meant she was going on him, too. She squirmed, trying to get away, to stop wetting on him. But his arms held her steadfastly in place. “I’m s-s-sorry!” She cried and buried her face in his chest.

Crowley stroked her back, murmuring softly in her ear as she peed. “You’re all right, it’s all right. I’m not angry with you, kiddo. You had an accident,” he said softly and picked her up. Crowley settled her on his hip, not minding the mess. He miracled the couch clean as he carried her to the bathroom to get her sorted. “Okay, you hop in the shower and I’ll get you a change of clothes, sound good?”

The thought of being alone, even for a moment, sent a jolt of fear through her. But Alex wanted to be good for Crowley – she owed him that, especially considering she’d just pissed all over him. Even though he said he wasn’t upset, she was still waiting for him to be mad – like her Daddy would be. He’d tell her everything was fine, then wait until she thought she was safe, and that’s when he’d ambush her. More often than not, Daddy chose to attack when she was in the shower.

Cowley tried to set her down, but she held on more tightly. “Kid, I have to put you down so you can clean up.” She didn’t let go. “Alex, I’m just getting you clothes to put on after your shower.”

It took nearly all she had to mumble, “N-no shower.”

“Why don’t you want a shower?” He asked, the mornings’ events fresh in his mind.

“Don’t need one.”

“You do. You need to get clean,” Crowley gently reasoned.

Alex was frustrated. She hated that she struggled to speak when so upset. Of course, she had no intention of explaining why she didn’t want a shower to Crowley; however, the meager answers were taking a huge toll on her already exhausted mind.

Sensing her distress, he fumbled for another plan. “What about a bath?” She nodded but her limbs stayed firmly wrapped around him. Crowley stifled a sigh and rubbed her back. Something was clearly wrong, but he knew better than to try to get it out of her. He turned on the tub and let it fill as he held her on his hip and retrieved some clothes. “Okay, tub’s ready.” The kid tightened her grip again. Concern furrowed his brow.

“Don’t go. Please,” she whimpered.

He paused. She was a bit old to still want him around for a bath. But, nothing about Alex was typical. And, if what she needed was for him to hang about, then he would. “I’ll stay,” he replied. Those must have been the magic words because, as soon as he spoke, she let go.

Halfway through the bath, she still hadn’t looked at him. “You know,” he started softly, “I’ve had an accident, too.” The demon hoped if he told her some about himself, she’d open up.

“You have?” She finally met his eyes, her own full of wonder and awe. Adults didn’t wet themselves – or so she thought.

He nodded. “I have. I’d lost my best friend. So, I went to my car and had a good, long cry about it.” His cheeks flushed as he admitted it aloud. He’d never told anyone. Though, Crowley did leave out the bit about downing half a bottle of scotch before he sobbed against his steering wheel. “I didn’t realize I’d done it until I looked down and saw that I was sitting in a puddle.” He shivered with displeasure as he recalled the humiliation.

Alex noted that his face was red and he seemed distressed. She shakily put her hand over his. “I’m sorry about your friend. And I’m sorry you peed your car.” Her voice softened even more. “Did your daddy kick you in the tummy, too?”

The kid’s question felt like a sucker punch. Fortunately, Crowley had the sense to keep his expression light. “Probably would’ve if I ever gave him the chance. But, no. Did yours?”

She nodded. “It was when I was really little. I thought I’d stop,” Alex frowned and gesture to the pile of wet clothes by the door. “Maybe I would’ve if he didn’t kick me every time I pissed myself,” she considered bitterly.

Fuck! The things he’d do to that rat bastard if he ever got the chance. Crowley pushed passed his anger. Gently, he asked, “Does it hurt?”

“What? Him kicking me? I mean… it did. But it doesn’t hurt anymore. ‘Least, not all the time.”

“When does it hurt?”

She blushed and looked away.

“It’s all right, you don’t have to tell me. I won’t judge you.”

Alex mumbled, “hurts when I haveta go. But… I dunno when I need to. It’s like… I don’t feel it until its too late. And it hurts.” She hastily wiped the tears from her cheeks. Her voice shook as she went on “I don’t know if go ‘cause it hurts so bad all the sudden or… or… or if it hurts ‘cause I go… or…” She shook her head and hid her face in her hands.

Crowley listened patiently. He’d never heard of anything quite like this before, but he didn’t doubt her. The poor girl looked even smaller as she wrapped her arms around her knees, shrinking in the tub. Hesitantly, Crowley set a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it gently. “It’s okay. No reason to be embarrassed, kid,” he comforted.

She looked up at him, seeing his wet clothes set her off crying again. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Crowley.”

“Alex, it’s fine – I’m not upset.” He floundered. “Would you feel better if I changed? Would that help?”

Alex bit her lip. She didn’t want him to leave her alone, but he didn’t deserve to be stuck wearing that. Slowly, she nodded.

“Two minutes, kid,” Crowley promised before he went out into the hall. A few choice miracles had him clean and changed in a matter of seconds. He waited by the door until he couldn’t stand it. “See, less than two minutes,” Crowley said, smiling.

“Yeah,” she agreed and mirrored his smile.

“C’mon, let’s get you dried off. I, for one, want to know what the hell’s gonna happen to Harry.”

Alex nodded brightly. She was pretty excited to see what became of his cousin after Harry let the snake free at the zoo. Truth be told, she empathized with the serpent far more than she’d admit.


	4. Conversations

Later that night, Aziraphale listened carefully as Crowley relayed what Alex told him He pushed past his anger and stoically nodded along, keeping his head. Two furious supernatural entities wouldn’t solve much of anything. Admittedly, he hadn’t fully understood Crowley’s snarled, short explanation of Alex’s accidents. Therefore, the angel did the one thing he always had, he read. He ordered a great many books on child psychology which, seconds after clicking “confirm payment,” miraculously appeared in a neat pile by his computer. “I read that psychological trauma can manifest as physical pain. Perhaps Alex’s incontinence is a result of her abuse? The pain she experiences may be a manifestation of the mental strain it puts on her,” Aziraphale suggested.

Crowley nodded as he spoke. “Seems more than possible, angel.” The things that poor kid endured—shit. His heart crept into his throat. “Bullocks, she looked so bloody small in that tub.” He recalled the angry bruises covering her body; deep reds, purples, and blues spread across her ribcage. A particularly nasty mark marred her back just above her tailbone. Crowley pulled himself together just enough to describe the jarring sight. “How… How could someone fuckin’ do that, Angel?” His voice broke, torn between rage and agonized desolation. “Even my ex-lot couldn’t… Well, maybe they could… but…” He ran his fingers through his hair and paced. Aziraphale schooled his expression; but Crowley knew better – he saw the twinge of muscle as Aziraphale’s jaw tightened and nostrils flared.

Aziraphale frowned. “Some humans have too much hate in their hearts,” he noted. It wasn’t right for her father to take his frustration out on her. She was just a little girl for Heaven’s sake! Despite his resigned response, all those years ago as they watched Noah stock the Ark, he hadn’t approved of The Almighty’s decision to kill kids. Those young ones had yet to do any wrong and She still made them perish for the sins of their parents. It churned his stomach to consider Her flippant feelings toward most human life. “As do others upstairs,” he added bitterly.

The serpentine eyes widened and his eyebrows shot up, momentarily forgetting his distress. “I’m surprised, Angel. Are you changing your stance after 6,000 years? Is the ‘ineffable plan’ suddenly fallible?” Crowley laced his genuine inquiry with just the right blend of snark and cynicism to remain a fairly-respectable-sounding ex-demon.

“I thought that much was clear when I chose our side,” he replied.

Those two words shattered his façade. “Our side,” Crowley repeated, dumbstruck. “Y-y… uh… m…nuh…ngk?”

Aziraphale regarded him cautiously. “Did you think She still possessed my unwavering loyalty?” He wasn’t upset, exactly, but any hint that his demon believed he still served The Almighty left a sour taste in his mouth.

Crowley finally constructed a borderline-coherent sentence, “Kinda just accepted it, Angel.” He watched hurt flash across the principality’s face and hurried to explain. “You did for 6,000 years. I didn’t expect you to stop on a dime.”

“Oh,” his face softened. “Well, that was rather kind of you. Thank you.” Occasionally, the demon blindsided him with a profoundly wise and understanding comment. His heart leapt into his throat.

“Don’t let it get around. I have a reputation to uphold, Angel.” Though mostly untrue, Crowley still liked to believe it. “Wouldn’t do for a demon to be kind,” He chuckled, rewarded when Aziraphale joined in. They both knew very well that Crowley would, without a doubt, do anything to make his angel – and now Alex—happy. His smile faded as realization dawned on him. “Angel, I didn’t say anything to her— I didn’t,” Crowley violently gestured to his torso. “I didn’t know what to… how to…” A flustered growl choked him and he fell silent. He ached to help her – and to destroy that horrid man. His voice shook when he finally spoke again. “Doesn’t matter… Couldn’t do it without sounding angry, anyway.” He dropped his face in his hands and shook his head. Shame burned in his cheeks – Alex was the one who had lived the nightmare, not He!

Aziraphale gave his demon’s shoulder a comforting squeeze. “It’s all right, my dear. We’re learning. Infant steps, as they say?”

“Baby steps,” he corrected.

“Exactly!” The angel replied cheerfully.

Crowley didn’t bother to set him straight. His head hurt and he was utterly exhausted. The demon burrowed against Aziraphale’s plush side, seeking the comfort of his loving warmth. Nearly asleep, that liquid butter voice jarred him back to reality.

“Perhaps keeping quiet was a good approach, dear boy,” he said thoughtfully. “Young Alex may perceive it as acceptance and a lack of judgment. Regardless, her experience with your response was likely a stark contrast those before, which may stand out as a positive reaction to her injuries.”

“Maybe,” he said as his eyelids slipped closed once again.

Aziraphale studied his sleeping demon and icy worry sank deeper in his chest. Even unconscious, Crowley’s brow furrowed and his mouth downturned in a small frown. Of course, the angel wasn’t surprised by how quickly his demon came to care for Alex. Aziraphale shared his desire to protect her – to keep her far from those who hurt her—and make sure she never knew pain such as that again.

******

Alex woke from her nightmare mid-stream. A sob caught in her throat as she felt heat pooling between her legs. “No!” Alex yelped and grabbed herself. After a few more horrible seconds, she managed to stem the flow. Tears ran down her cheeks – the second night in a row. The nice men would never want her to stay. Who could want a teenager who can’t even –

“Alex?” Crowley asked as he opened the door. “Are you okay?”

She gasped as the door swung in, a looming shadow stretched across the bedroom carpet. Alex pulled the blanket up to her chin, hoping to hide the mess. “I-I-I-I didn’t m-mean it. Won’t do it again.” She tried to stop crying, but the sobs just kept coming.

The acrid scent of urine hit Crowley even harder as he approached the bed. “Did you wet the bed?” He asked tentatively, already knowing the answer. “If you did, it’s all right, kiddo.

Alex scrambled as far from Crowley as she could. “Please! Please don’t,” she whimpered, fresh tears streaming down her cheeks as she cowered against the headboard. Her glazed, gray eyes pleaded with the demon, not really seeing him.

Crowley stayed where he was. “Don’t what?” The last thing he wanted to do was spook her further. He studied her closely and realized she wasn’t talking to him. “Alex, kiddo, I’m not going to hurt you,” he said softly.

“I can’t – I can’t d-d-do it tonight. H-hurts already. P-please don’t make me,” she begged and hugged her knees tightly to her chest. It always hurt when he did it. She didn’t understand why he liked it so much. Alex didn’t want new bruises. Her crotch was still sore from the last time. She couldn’t even use her period as an excuse anymore – not since he’d decided he didn’t mind the blood.

He had his suspicions about what she’d been through. Hoping he was wrong, he took a chance and asked, “Can’t do what, love?”

“Don’t wanna play th-the grown-up game, daddy. Don’t wanna t’night. Please… I-I-I can’t” She looked up into her father’s dark brown eyes, and saw his smile turn into an angry sneer. “No! I-I’m sorry!”

“oh, Alex,” he murmured. The tired agony in her voice broke his heart. How could someone do that to a kid? To anyone, really, but especially a kid. He wanted to castrate the man who hurt her before he tore him limb from limb. Perhaps he’d even use a demonic miracle to ensure the scummy piece of shit stayed alive to the end. The demon clenched his jaw and swallowed his anger—it wouldn’t do to have her thinking he was upset with her. Gently, Crowley whispered, “hey, kid, it’s okay, you’re safe.”

Alex choked, dizzy and terrified. “N-nuh. Not s-safe. Don’t wanna… please don’t m-make me.” Her lungs ached with her rapid, uneven breaths. “I-I-I…” She felt her stomach lurch as bile rose in her throat, surging through her mouth and pouring all over her and the bed. Alex coughed. “I’m sorry,” she nearly screamed. “I-I-I’ll get cleaned up… then... then y-you c-c-can do it.”

Crowley was frozen. He wanted to gather her up in his arms and hold her to his chest, whispering reassurances that she was all right. But he knew damn well that would do more harm than good. “Alex?” the demon tried softly.

Her eyes focused, finally seeing Crowley. She felt wet – and there was definitely puke on her. Oh no. No! Now they’d throw her out for sure. Why did she have to sick-up and piss on such a nice comforter? She’d have to make it up to them properly, she decided. Slowly, Alex found her voice. “I’m sorry ‘bout the mess. I… I’ll go get cleaned up and then you can do whatever you want to me.”

He stayed where he was. “What do you think I’m going to do?” He asked softly, trying desperately to keep the sadness out of his voice.

She shrugged. “Maybe fuck me? Make me give you a blow job?”

“No – No. Oh, Alex, I… I’d never—you…” Crowley floundered. A thirteen-year-old shouldn’t know what any of those words meant, much less nonchalantly offer them to a man more than twice her age. “Alex,” he began, finding his voice, “No, I don’t want anything like that from you.”

“’Cause I wet and puked?”

“Oh, no, Alex, no. Not at all.”

Her brows furrowed. “Then why? Daddy’s friends all do.” She didn’t understand; she’d done this as long as she could remember. Maybe she was supposed to do different things now that she was older?

Crowley took a deep, calming breath. “Kid, no one should be asking you for that stuff.” He noticed her confusion deepen and continued. “Has anyone, other than me, ever told you that something was only for ‘grown-ups’?”

“Yeah. Daddy said that I wasn’t allowed to have beer until I was a grown-up.”

The demon almost lost himself in that idiot man’s logic but quickly found his voice. “Exactly. Uh, yeah, so, blow-jobs and fucking are adult things, Kid.” Oh, Someone, it felt wrong to say that to a kid—and he was a demon for fucks sake!

“I didn’t know!” Alex panicked. She didn’t want him thinking that she was bad—he was so nice and she didn’t want to disappoint him.

Crowley squeezed her hand reassuringly. “Alex, it’s all right. I promise, I’m not upset with you. I know you didn’t know.”

Alex was almost too scared to ask, but she had to know. “What about kisses?”

He doubted she meant anything along the lines of an appropriate peck. “Kisses are complicated, kid. Some are okay, but others are very, very grown up,” Crowley explained, fighting to keep his voice even.

She worried she’d upset him again and another question dissolved on her tongue. Alex studied him, he had all the features of someone who was upset, but he wasn’t yelling. It was very confusing. And to make matters worse, her bladder wasn’t empty. She squirmed.

“You okay?”

Alex nodded, keeping her legs pressed tightly together. She wanted to hold herself, but Crowley would see and she didn’t want to make him mad. Her muscles ached and shook with the strain. She whimpered, feeling her hold start slipping. Please, no! Please! Please! Please!

Pretty confident her nod was absolute bullocks, he asked, “You sure?” A few seconds later, Crowley heard the distinct hiss of urine as Alex’s cheeks turned a deep red. “Oh, Alex, it’s all right.” He held her hand and gently traced her knuckles with his thumb.

Her cascade rapidly soaked the sheets as a puddle expanded around her. Alex stared at the slender fingers wrapped around her own, unable to believe her eyes. He had to know what she was doing! He should’ve screamed at her by now. Maybe he was planning on doing it later? She chanced a glance at his face. Those glasses made it hard to tell where he was looking, but she was almost positive he wasn’t looking at her. Alex found that oddly comforting, as though he was giving her a shred of privacy and dignity, despite the mess the was making. Finally, her torrent tapered off. Unsure of what to do, she gave his hand a light squeeze.

“Ready for a bath,” Crowley inquired softly. Of course, everything Alex unveiled warranted a great number of discussions. However, there were far more pressing matters, as the demon did not plan on adding a rash to that extensive list.

Alex nodded.

“You got it, kid.” The demon longed to take just an ounce of the ever-present pain away. He reached for an idea. Biscuits! Yeah, biscuits! Kids liked biscuits, still, right? It was worth a shot – at least Aziraphale would be happy. “Come on, you’ll have a bath and then we’ll go make some biscuits, okay?”

She gave him a timid nod and studied their interlocked hands. “We get to eat the biscuits too, right?”

After all the terrible things Alex divulged, the soft, genuine question nearly sent Crowley off sobbing. But she needed him to be strong. “Yeah, ‘course we do.”

Her eyes brightened as a smile crossed her face. The excitement fluttering in her tummy eased Alex’s embarrassment. Accident be damned, she was going to have her first biscuit! 


	5. Little Baker Girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize it took me so long to come back here – I haven’t been doing well with respect to my mental health – and accomplishing anything felt so gargantuan that I neglected nearly everything I love for a while.

Freshly clean and ready to learn, Alex stood beside Crowley as he thumbed through a cookbook. Her eyes lit up at particular recipe, but she kept quiet. She worried that she might say the wrong thing and he’d change his mind about baking altogether. Alex decided she couldn’t risk it. Maybe, if she was good, she could pick the cookies they made next time.

Fortunately, the demon noticed her interest. “What about these?” He suggested.

“Yeah!” She smiled at him and nodded enthusiastically before remembering her manners. “Please!”

Crowley mirrored her smile. The bright, child-like expression was a rather welcome change. He started getting out ingredients and placed them on the counter beside the mixer. One by one, the demon told Alex what to add to the bowl. “Eggs!”

“Eggs!” She repeated. Alex expertly cracked the eggs and made sure no shells snuck into the dough. She felt very important, following Crowley’s directions and earning smiles from the kind man as she did as he instructed.

Crowley hadn’t prepared biscuits since he attempted to entertain Warlock’s desire to make ‘Sugar Cookies’. Everything had gone smoothly until it came time to cut them out. Somehow, his charge found a way to make their ornament-shaped biscuits look extremely phallic. Mrs. Dowling fainted and Nanny Ashtoreth nearly lost her job. Fortunately, demonic miracles had a way of doing away with such inconveniences. However, Crowley had forgotten why flour was to be added slowly – with the electric mixer set on low. Of course, he remembered _exactly why_ in the seconds which followed adding two cups of flour and turning the mixer on high.

Alex froze as a cloud of flour burst into the air. Oh no! They’d made a mess – a pretty big one, at that. But Crowley was laughing. He did look pretty funny with flour all over his dark clothes and glasses. She figured she looked very much the same. Her hesitation dissipated a bit and she giggled right along with him.

He smirked. “Oops.” The demon added more flour to compensate for what was lost and turned the mixer on – ‘low’ this time. “Right then,” he paused and skimmed the instructions. “Says we’ve got to add the chocolate chips and then cook ‘em. I think we can do that, don’t you?”

Alex nodded eagerly. She followed Crowley’s lead, which, of course, included necessary batter taste-tests. Alex gave her seal of approval and deemed the dough the best she’d ever tasted. They scooped generous spoonfuls onto the baking sheet, making sure they were evenly spaced before Crowley popped the tray into the oven.

Once the first batch had cooled to his satisfaction, Crowley handed his charge a biscuit. She held it reverently and admired it for a full minute. “Well, go on,” he encouraged her. Never once had Crowley thought he’d have to entice a kid to eat a biscuit.

Her eyes lit up. “This is awesome!” She said, her mouth still full.

He met her gaze and smiled broadly.

Aziraphale heard commotion in the kitchen and, finally, moved to investigate. He stopped just outside the doorway, taking in the beautiful scene: a fine dusting of flour covered nearly every surface, some unidentifiable goo clung to the ceiling, and a pile of dishes precariously towered in the sink – while Alex and Crowley were sat on the floor, at the center of the mess, happily eating biscuits. Chocolate smears dappled the sweet girl’s smile as she threw her head back in laughter. Aziraphale lingered just out of view, delighting in her joy. He wanted to preserve the moment as long as he could. All too soon, Alex noticed him and shied against the cabinets.

She wasn’t afraid of him…but they had made a very, very big mess and Zira seemed to like things exactly the way he had organized them. “I-I-I promise we’ll clean up,” she mumbled.

“Oh, I wasn’t worried about that at all, dear girl,” Aziraphale assured as he knelt beside Crowley and reached for a biscuit. He paused and looked at Alex. “May I?”

Puzzled, she nodded. Grown-ups didn’t have to ask for permission for food.

He smiled brightly. “Thank you!” The angel took a tentative bite. Admittedly, he had his doubts about Crowley –and Alex’s – baking abilities. Much to his pleasure, Aziraphale was mistaken. He closed his eyes as the still-warmed treat melted across his tongue, leaving a pleasant, sugary bliss in its wake.

“What do you think?” Alex asked timidly.

“He loves ‘em,” Crowley replied, smirking once again, “Look at his shoulders. They’re wiggling.”

She smiled. The ginger’s confidence rubbed off on her, at least enough to say, “Guess we did good, huh?”

Aziraphale finished his mouthful and praised the chefs, “Ah, yes, rather well, indeed, my dears.” He turned to Crowley. “I believe we have a little baker in our midst!”

The demon agreed and Alex positively beamed.


	6. Storms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’all I promise I’m trying. I love this story. I’m just struggling right now. I had a Really Bad Loss recently and it has me rather messed up. I appreciate your continued support <3 be well -SnakesandTea

The three of them spent the day sitting around and snacking on biscuits. Aziraphale lost himself in a book mid-afternoon, leaving Crowley and Alex to their own devices once again. The demon realized they were considerably lacking in the toy department and made a mental note to go to a shop soon. Of course, he and Aziraphale could miracle anything they needed, but there was something enjoyable about going out to the store. Plus, he thought it only fair for the kid to get to pick her own toys out. Crowley doubted she’d ever had the luxury before. The two of them played a few rounds of tic-tac-toe and three games of checkers (on an antique board) before the demon suggested coloring. Alex’s eyes lit up.

Later that night, thunder boomed overhead and Alex practically leaped off the couch. Attempting to hide her fear, she hastily resumed drawing a Pegasus. As she shaded the feathered wings, she noticed wetness in her underwear. Her heart sank. Maybe she should go to the toilet. But the storm was scary and she didn’t want to leave Zira and Crowley. Plus, she was having a lot of fun.

Crowley noticed her overstated reaction. “Sounds like a big storm,” he remarked calmly.

“Yeah,” she said. Alex tried to push the storm from her mind and focus on her art. Another angry rumble rolled through the sky and she shuddered. Her crotch grew damper as a second dribble of wee escaped. She pressed her legs together, hoping that she’d stop wetting and her clothes would dry on their own. Alex knew she was safe, and that Daddy wasn’t here—she didn’t need to listen for the front door to slam or footsteps in the hallway. So why was she still so scared of the thunder?

“You doin’ okay, kid?” Crowley asked.

His question jarred her from her thoughts. “Uh huh,” she replied quickly. Alex didn’t like lying to him, but she couldn’t even make sense of the truth, herself. She squirmed and rocked from side to side. Shifting her weight offered a brief reprieve from the pressure building in her abdomen.

The demon raised an eyebrow; but Alex wasn’t paying attention.

Aziraphale heard her hurried reply and glanced up from his novel. Oh dear, she appeared mere moments from having an accident. He shot Crowley a concerned look. Of course, the angel preferred to keep his rugs devoid of urine, but his deeper point of contention was that poor Alex would be upset.

Crowley shrugged. The kid needed to learn to listen to her body. He’d gone through it with Warlock, too. Though, that didn’t make it any easier to watch either charge ignore the signs they were getting desperate; nor did it ease hearing the heart-breaking cries when they didn’t quite make it. Crowley had a bad feeling there was something more to Alex’s refusal to go to the toilet. He noticed she’d been on edge since storm clouds filled the sky.

Alex whined as wet heat burst against her palm. She wiggled, desperately trying to stop herself from losing control. Despite her efforts, urine seeped through her pants and pattered on the rug beneath her. She put her head down atop her crossed arms on the table. Her muscles fully surrendered and allowed her horrible torrent to grow stronger, hissing loudly as she voided her aching bladder. Tears streaked her reddening cheeks. Alex couldn’t look at Zira or Crowley. She was certain they were going to be frustrated with her. Once she pushed out the last drop, she got to her feet and bolted to her room, leaving wet footprints in her wake.

She peeled off her pants and underwear, cringing at the grimy residue left behind. Her legs were gross, itchy, and damp. Alex wiped off as best she could with a slightly drier bit of her sweats. Sobs wracked her thin frame and she collapsed in a small ball, hugging her knees to her chest. “Why can’t you just be normal?” She whispered harshly to herself.

****

Aziraphale looked between the puddle on his rug and his demon. “Why didn’t you say anything!?” He asked.

“She has to learn,” Crowley replied, not looking up.

“You knew she had to go! Why didn’t you say something!” Flustered, he fumbled. “You—you just let her wet herself!”

The demon met his gaze. “Technically, Angel, you did the same thing,” he pointed out, much to Aziraphale’s chagrin.

“Yes, but… well, you were the nanny, Crowley!”

He recoiled. “What’s that got to do with it?”

“You have a duty – an obligation – to help children –“

“No, Angel, I had an obligation to teach one child,” Crowley corrected. “I’m an ex-demon, ‘helpful’ isn’t exactly in the job description.”

Aziraphale wanted to argue but his shoulders fell in defeated agreement. “I suppose you’re right.”

Crowley’s voice softened. “She’ll be all right. I’ll go up, have a chat with her, and let her know we’re not upset.” The angel seemed less-than pacified. “Kids are pretty resilient – ’s the best and worst thing about ‘em.”

He grumbled his ascent. Still ruffled over the whole ordeal, Aziraphale said, “It just seems rather unfair to remain silent when it’s evident she needs the loo.”

“Hmm.” He realized the principality had a point. Maybe Alex did need more guidance. Given her age, it didn’t occur to Crowley that she might need proper toilet training. Of course, it would be more difficult given her condition. Eh, details. “Right. Those shit parents probably didn’t teach her.”

Aziraphale pursed his lips at the language, but decided the situation warranted swearing. “My dear, how, exactly, does one help a teenager learn to ‘listen to her body’, as you so eloquently put it?”

Crowley shrugged. “Not sure, Angel. But we’ve got to try.” After a bit more convincing on the demon’s part, Aziraphale stopped fussing and Crowley, finally made his way to the kid’s room. He knocked on Alex’s door. “Hey, kid?”

Alex froze. She tried to respond, ‘just a minute’ but the words caught in her throat. Alex wiped her eyes and frantically searched for something to use to cover herself. Coming up empty, she curled into a tighter ball and hid her face in her hands.

Crowley slowly opened the door. His heart sank as his gaze landed on his charge. He knelt beside her, putting a soft hand on her back. The muscles beneath his palm tensed. He bit back a sigh and started to pull away. However, a tentative hand reached for his wrist and guided his hand back to where it had been. The two sat in uncomfortable silence for a few minutes, until, very slowly, he felt her muscles start to relax under his touch. Crowley whispered, “accidents happen.”

Shame reheated her neck and ears. She couldn’t bear to look at him as she admitted, “Wasn’t really an accident.” Her throat tightened. “I knew I needed to go.”

He rubbed her back. “Why didn’t you?”

Alex sniffled. “’Cause the storm.” She felt like a goddamn baby. “It’s stupid. I… I don’t like thunder.”

Crowley heard the barely-concealed fear in her voice. The poor kid sounded deathly afraid of thunder. “Everyone dislikes something,” He began casually. “Personally, ‘m not a huge fan of bosses.”

“Is your boss mean?”

“Yeah, ex-boss. I’d even go so far as to say ‘evil.’” The irony wasn’t lost on the demon and he had to fight to keep the bitter smirk off his face.

“Sorry…” She paused for a moment. “Daddy didn’t like his boss much either.” Alex suppressed a shudder. Daddy was always meaner on days when he and his boss ‘had a talk’. Once, he came home and slammed the door so hard, a picture fell off the wall. She was really glad it wasn’t thundering that time. Since she’d heard the crash, she had time to hide from Daddy – at least until he calmed down. Other nights, Alex wasn’t as lucky and the thunder made it impossible to hear when Daddy got home angry. Those nights she’d just close her eyes and wait for it to end. Alex sat up and hugged her knees to her chest.

The demon noted the tremble in her shoulders. He shrugged off his jacket and draped it around her. “What’s goin’ on in that head of yours, kid?” Crowley asked softly, rubbing her back again.

Alex couldn’t believe it – he gave her his jacket despite the mess she’d made. Making sure the expensive fabric didn’t touch any piss-damp skin, she hugged the jacket to herself. It smelled like Crowley – like safety.

“No judgement,” the demon offered.

She leaned into his side, unable to look him in the eyes. Alex whispered, “Can’t hear Daddy over the thunder.”

Her murmur so quiet, Crowley thought he imagined it – until the kid pulled his jacket over her face and cried softly. “Alex,” he said gently. “Why do you need to hear him over the thunder?”

Alex squirmed. The words caught in her throat, but she forced them to the tip of her tongue. “Gotta know when to hide… s-s-so I don’t get smacks or have to play the Grow-Up Game…” Her heart drummed in her ears. Alex had never told anyone about him hitting her. Daddy made it really clear that she’d be in Big Trouble if she told anyone the truth about how she got all her bruises.

Oh, he’d bloody well destroy that wanker. Crowley kept his voice calm. “’M glad you told me. Took a lot of guts to do that.”

Alex sobbed. “Please don’t make me go back. I-I-I c-c-can’t… I…”

Crowley carefully maneuvered her into his lap and held her to his chest. “You’re not goin’ back there. I’ll not stand for it,” he said firmly. The demon rubbed her back as she sniffled into his shoulder. “I’ve got you, kid. You’re safe here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will absolutely be a Conversation about Alex's injuries as well as her shit father. Everything will be addressed -- these things come in time, my dears <3


End file.
